


You're Tryna Break Free

by tommofond



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Louis in Makeup, My First Fanfic, Other, a fair amount of fluffiness, genderfluid Louis, panromantic harry, the tiniest bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:12:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4592463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommofond/pseuds/tommofond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry are both students at the same university and one day they meet and discover that they have a very important connection that brings them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Tryna Break Free

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the song St. Elmo's Fire. I originally wanted to make the movie more relevant to the story but it didn't really work out. Also this is my first ao3 post and first fanfic ever at all so I hope it's semi decent.

Harry wandered the halls of the art building on his campus. He had a two hour break for lunch and still hadn't figured out what to do with the extra time he was inevitably left with. It'd been 3 weeks, and he also still hadn't found any close friends. Sure, he had a few dudes he'd talk to, but he felt uncomfortable.  
That's why the art building was his favorite place to get lost in. They were always displaying beautiful works from the students on campus, and the students who were in the building were beautiful works themselves. Even though he was a psych major, he had a soft spot for art and artsy people.  
It was a Tuesday, meaning he had his dreaded Bio lab after this. He stared at a painting of a small child in a birdcage while wishing he could come up with any reason to miss it. He rubbed at his throat. It was still a little sore from singing alone at his house the day before. Maybe he could claim he was sick...  
“Do you like it?” A soft, high voice queried from behind him.  
Harry jerked around, startled, but couldn't get a word out. The boy in front of him was stunning. He was a good 5 inches shorter than Harry, and had a feathery swish of hair over his forehead. He was wearing a pair of grey Pink sweatpants painfully low on his hips, and a loose black t-shirt cropped just below his ribs. And the most distracting part, his bright blue eyes were framed by winged eyeliner and sinfully long lashes.  
“The painting, I mean,” The boy giggled lowly. “It's mine.”  
Harry broke his gaping stare to look back at the painting. “Uhmn, yeah t's uh, beautiful. I was just wondering what it meant.” Bull. He thought. I'm just wondering how I can subtly say you're the most gorgeous person I've ever laid eyes on.  
“It's about closeting,” the blue-eyed angel started to explain, his eyes taking on a wide, soft look. “Like, if you're not in a safe space, strict parents or whatever, and you're not a cis straight person, it can feel like you're caged. Especially when you're young, because that's when you're taught what's-” He make air quotation marks with his small hands- “'right' and 'wrong'.” He finished with a satisfied smirk.  
“That's... really beautiful,” Harry smiled honestly. “Th' world needs more art like that.”  
The boy moved to stand beside Harry. “I agree. That's why I'm here.”  
They stared at the painting for a moment of silence. Harry started to feel a lump rising in his throat. Knowing he had something in common with the child in the cage tore a hole in his chest.  
“When's your next class?”  
Harry blinked away the rising tide in his eyes and turned away from the painting. “I'm done for the day,” he lied through his teeth.  
“Nice. You should come get coffee with me. You're cute and open-minded.” The boy grinned, flipping his hair away from his eyes. “Name's Louis, by the way.”  
“Louis,” Harry quietly tested the way the 2 syllables felt on his tongue. “Yeah, I'd love to, Louis. Oh, and my name's Harry.”  
“Lovely,” Louis perked up, shoving his hands in his pockets and starting to walk towards the door.  
Harry lightly jogged over and opened the door for him, not missing the chance to see that his sweatpants looked just as good from behind.

Their walk was about 10 minutes long, and silent between them. Harry didn't miss how Louis kept his head slightly downward. And he certainly didn't miss the judgmental stares aimed in their direction.  
When Harry and Louis arrived at the shop, ordered iced black coffee and a lavender mocha respectively, and sat down, Harry decided to voice his thoughts. “Sorry if this is kind of invasive, but do people always look at you that way?”  
Louis blew on the steaming beverage in front of him, his arms resting crooked on his thighs. His words were slow and deliberate. “Unfortunately, yeah. That's why I immediately wanted to get to know you better. Even on a campus like this, people can be assholes.”  
Harry watched him take a cautious sip of his drink. “That's a bloody shame.”  
Louis just shrugged. “What about you, hm? You've already gotten a taste of my tragic backstory, and all I know is your name. Orientation? Pronouns? Favorite color? Weird kinks? Favorite domestic animal?”  
Harry chuckled. “Wow, okay. Questioning, but I identify as panromantic. He/him. Purple. Thigh high socks. Hedgehog.”  
Louis nodded, taking a sip of his mocha. “Nice, nice. I own like 20 pair of thigh highs. Maybe we should date.” He smiled mischievously, the crinkles by his eyes contorting his liner.  
Harry choked on his coffee, wondering how red his face was.  
“And here I thought you'd be a latex guy,” Louis continued, savoring every second of Harry's flustered countenance. “Or bondage, maybe,” He set his elbow on the table, pointing to a tattoo of a rope on his wrist.  
Harry looked up, face still red as could be. “Oh. That's funny. I have an anchor in the same place,” He pushed up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing several various tattoos but pointing out the anchor near his hand.  
“Same kinks and coordinating tattoos. Maybe we're soulmates,” Louis grinned cheesily.  
Harry buried his head in his hands. “Oh, Lord,” He laughed out.  
“That's 'oh, Louis' to you.”

They stayed at the shop for nearly three hours, just bearing each other's souls. It was all light-hearted, nothing too deep. But it ended with Harry putting Louis' number in his phone and texting him as soon as he got back to his dorm.

Harry: Hey, I really enjoyed getting to talk to you today. x  
Louis: same luv. we'll have to do it again. my house, tomorrow, dinner. it's pizza and movie night. bring your favorite.  
Harry: Oh! That sounds great. :)

Harry couldn't think of anything but Louis that night, or the next day. He was just so... interesting. He wanted to get to know him, to be his best friend, to know every last detail of his tragic backstory and make him forget every tragic thing about it. He also tried to pretend he hadn't spent half an hour trying to pick the outfit he looked best in. He had tried on nearly every shirt he owned before settling on a plain white tee with his black skinny jeans.

Harry knocked on the door bearing the address Louis had given him. It was in the highest class of dorms, and he had one of the rooms that was all to his own. It was a little bit intimidating.  
Louis opened the door and immediately threw his arms around Harry. “Hey, I'm so glad you came!”  
“O-Of course,” Harry murmured, lightly wrapping his arms around Louis' lithe torso. He took mental notes on how soft he seemed, how curvy he was.  
Louis let go and motioned for Harry to come in, holding open the door, but froze when he noticed Harry's eyes were locked on his face.  
Louis had put on more makeup than he'd been wearing yesterday. His foundation was fully contoured instead of just evening out his face. He'd added a full smoky affect to his eyes, and put a light coat of pink lipstick on.  
“Sorry,” Louis said, eyes darting to his feet. “It makes me comfortable... I dunno.”  
“Shhh,” Harry smiled. “You look lovely, Louis. Just different, s' all.”  
“Oh,” Louis looked back up again as Harry finally stepped in. “Well, thank you.”  
“Anytime, love. It's nothing to apologize for. Or even explain,” he shrugged. “Anyway, I brought St. Elmo's Fire. It's my favorite.”  
Louis slammed the door shut excitedly. “Brat pack, nice. I'll go grab our pizza.”

And they maybe talked through most of the movie. It was just so easy. Harry had never met anyone he got on so well with, but he loved every second of it. Even though they had only known each other for a couple days, they'd talked enough that Harry felt it was safe to ask the question he couldn't quite banish from his mind.  
“Louis?”  
“Mmm?” He grunted, mouth full of pizza.  
“If... If you don't want to answer this, it's fine, but I'm curious. Why the makeup?”  
Louis thoughtfully chewed the pizza in his mouth. He didn't seem offended, but he took his precious time gearing himself up to respond. “I'm genderfluid. Because, like, I don't really feel like one gender all the time. And I definitely don't act like one. Makeup is one thing I've always really been into, and I've noticed I tend to put on more when I'm feeling... more towards the female end of the spectrum. But really it's just that I like it. Just like some girls are really into makeup. Does that make sense?”  
“Yeah, definitely,” Harry smiled down at Louis, who finished his pizza and rested his head on his shoulder.  
They sat that way in silence for a while. While the characters on TV dealt with the drama of infidelity and desperate love, Harry and Louis silently tried to memorize the way the other smelled.  
The movie inevitably ended and Harry looked down to see that Louis had dozed off with his head on Harry's chest, his arm wrapped lightly around Louis' shoulders. Harry made no attempt to wake him, and instead took the time to really take in his appearance. He looked so small against Harry's lanky limbs. Everything about him screamed at Harry 'I'm soft, hold me.' Which was ridiculous, he wasn't a toy. But even after two days Harry couldn't stand the idea of not seeing this boy.  
Before he knew what he was doing, his lips connected with the feathery fringe that covered Louis' forehead.  
“Mmf?” Louis stirred and Harry jolted away, accidentally whacking Louis as his arm jerked.  
“Ouch!” Louis shot up, his hands covering the back of his head.  
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” Harry reached for Louis' arms. “I just got startled...”  
“You're good, mate,” he giggled. “Didn't realize I was that threatening.”  
Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Louis into a hug, awkward because of their placement on the couch.  
“Anyway, I think I should be heading home,” he sighed, pulling away and standing up.  
Louis made a pouting face, and Harry didn't realize how much mascara and lipstick could improve a pout.  
“Well, I mean...” He stuttered.  
Louis stuck his lip out even further.  
“What do you-?”  
“Stay with me,” Louis grabbed Harry's right hand with both of his.  
“W-We just met yesterday,” Harry stammered, reddening.  
“No, not like... I just,” Louis dropped his arms and looked down. “You just have this aura about you.. You make me feel safe, and loved. No one else has ever made me feel like that. Harry, I've talked to maybe 3 people for more than one conversation since I've gone to this school and you're the only one I've felt any sort of connection to...” Louis' eyes were watering when he looked back up. “I'm probably freaking you out and making you want to leave more, but I really, really, like you.”  
Harry couldn't verbalize an answer. He replied by scooping Louis onto his waist and taking him up into his arms and pressing the lightest of kisses to his collarbone. It took a moment of just holding before he could choke out, “I want nothing more than you to feel loved. No one could be more deserving.”  
Louis smiled as wide as his face could take, and nuzzled his face into Harry's shoulder. Harry slowly padded towards where he assumed Louis' room was, the boy resting easily in his arms.  
As they crossed the threshold of the door, Louis lifted his head. “Wait, hold on, I need to take my makeup off. To the bathroom!” He pointed in the opposite direction.  
Harry smiled and obliged. “Can...I help?” He asked, setting Louis down on the bathroom counter.  
“With my face? Sure. Makes my life easier!” Louis reached behind himself and picked up a blue cloth, then soaked it in water and wrung it out. “Just use this. It takes everything off really well.”  
“Oh, okay,” Harry picked it up and started gently trailing down Louis' jawline, watching the blue material begin to turn the same caramel as his skin.  
“Please don't go this slow the whole time,” Louis smirked.  
“Hush, Lou, I'm enjoying this,” He grinned, but sped up the soft circles he made with the cloth.  
“Lou? Aw, I like that. Good choice.”  
Harry went extra gentle on his eyes, warning him to close them and still pressing down barely enough to clean the smoky lids. He left Louis' lips for last, slowly running the fabric across his shimmering mouth while keeping his chin cupped with his other hand.  
“Not that it matters, but you look just as stunning without any,” he said.  
“I appreciate that,” Louis smiled, hopping off the counter. He grabbed Harry's hand and led him back to the bedroom, where he immediately threw off all but his underwear (which were ladies' lilac lace) and flopped onto the bed.  
Harry stood back, torn between trying not to stare at Louis' near-naked form and trying to come up with an excuse to not be just in his boxers in this situation. “Uhmn, do you have any pajamas I can maybe borrow?”  
“You know, I honestly don't,” he rolled onto his back and stuck his hands above his head. “Sorry mate, I never wear any.”  
“Alrighty then. If this becomes a habit I'm bringing some of my own,” Harry deadpanned, uncomfortably removing all but his black boxer briefs.  
Louis bit his lip and tweaked his eyebrows as Harry walked over and laid down next to him, earning a disapproving glare from the taller boy.  
Harry laid on his back and Louis immediately cuddled up to his side, resting his head on his chest before saying, “Honestly, I'm sorry I'm being so weird about this. I've never moved this fast before, it just.. it feels different with you.”  
Harry ran his fingers through Louis' hair and put his other arm around him. “Stop apologizing for this stuff. I feel the same.”  
Harry felt Louis smile into his chest, and then they fell asleep like that.

Louis woke up first, stirring ever so slightly to the sun's rays shining in. He looked up at Harry, somehow surprised that everything that had happened the past few days had been real. How all at once someone so beautiful and so open-minded and kind-hearted could literally just appear in Louis' life was beyond him. But he was grateful, so grateful.  
“Mmph,” Harry squirmed, moving his arms tighter around Louis. “Good morning, sunshine.”  
Louis giggled. “Good morning.”  
“We've missed our first class,” Harry mumbled.  
“Are you really gonna pretend you'd rather be in class than here with meeeee?”  
“No... No, but I do have to go to my afternoon class. I have a huge test.”  
Louis pouted, then shrugged. “I guess that's okay. But you're staying here until then.”  
“I'm perfectly fine with that,” Harry smiled, scooting up to sit straight against the headboard, Louis adjusting to join him.  
They laid there in silence, drifting in and out of sleep for at least another hour before Harry finally said what was on his mind all night.  
“Louis, I... have a weird request,” He began.  
“Dude, listen, I was kidding about owning a bunch of thigh-highs. I only have one pair, and they're just the athletic kind-”  
Harry burst out laughing, not even sure if Louis was joking or not. “No, no, it's something else.”  
Louis grinned. “Okay. Go ahead.”  
“I want to try makeup. Like you do.”  
“Oh,” Louis said quietly. “Are you sure? And uh, why?”  
“Yeah, I've been thinking about it since I first saw you, honestly. And I'm just curious how it feels.”  
“Alright. I can definitely help you with that. C'mon, we should do it now if you want to get to class on time,” Louis smiled encouragingly, hopping off the bed and yanking on Harry's hand. He led him to the bathroom and turned on the light.  
“Here, uh, sit here,” Louis fumbled to shut the toilet seat, gesturing for Harry to sit while he turned to get out the supplies.  
Harry watched with nervous interest as he pulled out a huge black box that opened to reveal what seemed like infinite drawers and boxes and shelves. Louis pulled out tubes and brushes and colorful sticks and small containers, occasionally holding things up to Harry's face. Once he had made a fairly significant pile of items on the edge of the counter, he set the box on the floor and turned to gaze at Harry. “You ready?”  
“I think so,” he nodded.  
Louis smiled and picked up a small tube labeled primer and squeezed a small dot onto his ring finger, then began to coat Harry's face.  
Harry could've sworn Louis completely covered his face with 4 different things. He wasn't complaining, though. Louis' gentle touch all over his face, feeling ocean blue eyes gaze at him constantly, and just having him this close made any ridicule that may come later worth it.  
“Okay, I'm done with all the full face stuff. D'you wanna see it now, or wait till I'm all finished?” He asked, looking awfully proud of his work.  
“Lemme just wait. I wanna be completely shocked,” Harry smiled reassuringly.  
“If you say so,” Louis chuckled and shook his head, then pulled out a long box labeled Naked and a brush. “Close your eyes.”  
Harry complied instantly, though he felt a light pang at having to lose the beautiful view he'd been enjoying.  
He felt various levels of pressure from Louis' finger and the brush alternately grazing across his eyelid. He was surprised at how comfortable he felt. Suddenly he thought about what his conservative, homophobic family might say if they saw him in this position, and he couldn't help but chuckle, which earned him a forceful brushstroke to the eye. “Ah!”  
“Oh gosh I'm so sorry! You moved suddenly, I couldn't help it!” Louis apologized.  
“No, you're fine. Didn't hurt, it just startled me.”  
“Okay.. Am I fine to continue?”  
“Of course,” Harry smiled up at him, eyes still closed.  
It only took a few minutes until Louis said “Open.”  
Harry let his eyes flutter open, readjusting to the harsh bathroom light. Louis' fond smile told him he must look pretty good right now.  
“We done yet, Lou?” He asked, wiggling his butt on the 'chair.'  
“Not yet, H. Mascara and lips, then you'll be done,” Louis responded, removing a wet black brush from it's container. “Okay, it's really important you keep your eyes still and open for this. Otherwise, I'll have to do a lot of clean-up. Got it?”  
“I'll try my best.”  
It felt weird, weirder than anything else he'd had on so far. The brush was sticky against his lashes, and felt cold. Suddenly he craved blinking more than ever before and fixated his eyes on Louis' hand, trying to ignore the urge.  
Louis stepped back, having put mascara on all of his lashes. “Now wait like 5 or 10 seconds before you blink, then you should be fine.”  
Harry obeyed and then had the most satisfying blink of his life while Louis bent over to pull some more things from the box.  
“What color lips do you want? Neutral? Classic red? Pink?”  
“Hmm,” Harry mused. “Surprise me. Whatever you think will look best.”  
“Well,” Louis stood up with a smirk. “I think anything would look wonderful, but I need to see you in red,” He turned back to Harry, holding a few different sized red sticks. “Open your mouth.”  
Harry obliged and felt a tad of guilt when the words went straight to his pants. It didn't help that Louis squatted down in front of him and cupped his cheek to rub lipstick across his mouth.  
“Okay, now mash your lips together. Like this,” He made a cross-eyed face and rubbed his lips against each other.  
Harry stifled a laugh as he tried to copy the look entirely.  
“Perfect,” Louis grinned. “Now open up again.” He took out a small brush and smoothed what Harry assumed was lipgloss over his lips. “Looks great. Now close.”  
Without thinking, Harry closed not only his mouth, but his eyes as well. And instead of feeling a brush or finger next, he felt the softest pair of lips connect with his. He tensed out of shock, only to reach out and pull Louis closer, one hand on his face and the other in his hair. They kissed softly and with closed mouths, savoring the movements over the taste. Harry just did his very best not to actually whine when Louis finally pulled away.  
“Well, the red lips look great on you,” Harry joked.  
“Not near as good as they do on you,” Louis responded, his gaze spaced out. “I'm sorry I didn't.. ask or anything. You just... looked so good and I...” He picked up Harry's hand and held it in both of his, which were trembling.  
“Lou, it's completely okay, I promise. I would've said yes, any way about it. I'm not upset, okay?” Harry stood up, taking Louis with him and pulling him into a hug. “I wanted it as much as you did.”  
“Okay,” Louis smiled up at him. “So! You ready to see yourself?”  
Harry had almost forgotten the whole reason they were here. Suddenly he felt the weight of all the cosmetics on his face as he responded, “Oh... yeah,” and turned towards the mirror against the wall.  
He looked like a different person. He was tanner, his cheekbones more defined. His eyelashes were gorgeous, lips a sinful red. His eyes looked so dramatic, with eyeliner wings that would make his sister jealous. He couldn't stop staring and taking it all in. His eyes darted around his face, to Louis anxiously watching him, back to his face, and over again.  
“I...” He looked down at Louis. “I love it. So much. You did an amazing job.”  
“Really? I'm so glad you like it,” He hugged Harry hard around his middle. “So, so glad.”

Harry savored the snickers and judgmental glares he encountered on his way to class. He was proud of Louis' work, and he felt amazing about how he looked. He understood completely why Louis' chose makeup as a hobby. It was like war paint. You put it on, and suddenly... you can take on anything.  
He didn't worry about his test. He may've failed, for all he knew, but all he could focus on was heading back to Louis' dorm as soon as he was done.

Harry knocked on the door, his left hand tight around the small black gift box he held behind his back. No answer. He knocked again, louder.  
“Calm the fook down, I'm on my way,” He heard Louis' soft voice from inside and bit his lip excitedly, looking down at his feet.  
The door opened, revealing Louis in skintight skinny jeans and a Black Sabbath tshirt, and suddenly Harry felt a little more ridiculous about his gift. “Sorry H, didn't know it was you!”  
“It's fine,” Harry smiled. “But uh, I have something for you.” He held the box out to Louis, who took it with an eyebrow raise.  
Louis carefully opened it, revealing a brand new lipstick, the exact color and brand that he'd used on Harry the day before. He looked up at him with a fond smile, then back down at the box. He pulled out the lipstick to reveal a folded piece of paper. When he unfurled it, he read out loud, “I want you to 'stick' with me. Will you be my *insert gender-neutral term of endearment here*?”  
He looked up at Harry incredulously, who was waiting with bated breath. “This is horribly cheesy. The cheesiest thing I've ever seen. And I kind of hate it.”  
Harry made a pouty face.  
“But yes. Yes, I would love to be your gender neutral term of endearment. You cheesy bastard.”  
With that, he pulled Harry by the shirt, locked him into a smiling kiss, and closed the door behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! And like I said, first time, so please leave constructive criticism! :)  
> You can find me on tumblr: tommofond


End file.
